


Now How Am I So Enthralled

by kittysock



Series: Unknown Pleasures [2]
Category: Peter Pan (2003)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Extremely Underage, M/M, Sexual Slavery, caveat: peter is like 100 really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-16 21:09:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14173449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittysock/pseuds/kittysock
Summary: One year after "I Heard You Keep Their Wings Pinned Under Glass," Peter and Hook's relationship has changed- somewhat.





	Now How Am I So Enthralled

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with more terrible things!  
> HEED THE TAGS. 
> 
> Just like before- none of the things depicted in this story are endorsed by the author.
> 
> Title from Torch Song by AFI, again.

Peter wakes up to the sound of the door closing. It’s soft, but it rouses him from his slumber. He’d barely fallen asleep, exhausted from his day’s chores. 

“Come here, boy,” Hook says. Peter slips out from under the woven blanket Hook brought back last time they made land. The cool air afforded by the ornate windows of the captain’s quarters pricks at Peter’s skin, goosebumps rippling down his body as he walks toward the captain. Once he’s in reach of Hook, he stops. Hook reaches out with his good hand and tweaks Peter’s left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, stiffening it further in the cool air and sending a sharp zing of pleasure through his body. He’s naked. He’s almost always naked these days. 

“Undress me, boy,” Captain Hook commands. Peter sinks to his knees on the hard wooden floor to unlace Hook’s boots. He undoes the laces in the back and works the boots off of his captain’s feet, followed by his thick woolen socks. He carries the boots and socks over to the armoire and arranges them neatly. On his way back to Hook, he meets Hook’s gaze and quirks his lips up in a half smile. 

Peter reaches up and carefully slips the velvet overcoat off Hook’s shoulders until it’s down by Hook’s elbows. The coat is bulky, so Hook takes his good arm out first, leaving Peter to work it off of his hook arm. Peter places the overcoat on the chair next to them, then turns his attention to the long silk vest. His fingers pluck at the buttons by memory, and the lightweight silk is easier to remove by himself. He places it neatly on top of the overcoat, then untucks Hook’s red ruffled shirt from his breeches. He unbuttons the neck, then works the lacing until the shirt is loose enough for him to work it off over the captain’s hook and head. It joins the pile.

Peter doesn’t let his gaze linger too long on the defined plains of Hook’s chest, the hair there where Peter will never have any. There’s a thickness to him that sets Peter’s insides clenching, sends heat rising in his hands and his gut. 

Peter kneels again. His hands don’t tremble as he undoes the string closures on the legs of Hook’s red breeches. He stands and does the same to the closure around his waist, guiding the breeches down. Hook steps out of them, and they too, join the pile. Peter turns to go put the clothes away- to brush the dirt out of them and fold them for storage. It’s been a good day- the ship had been riding high on the capture of a merchant vessel, and they’d all stayed up celebrating late into the night. Hook left him alone hours ago with instructions to clean the quarters, which he had, scrubbing and mopping and wiping the grime from every surface. He wants to go back to sleep, and Hook sleeps in his underwear.

A hook on his shoulder stops him. 

“You aren’t done, Pan,” Hook growls. Peter lets out a small sigh and turns around. Hook only has his linen drawers left. They only have one fastener, a string around the waist. Peter knows what he’ll see under them. He kneels so that he can pull the string and tug the drawers down to Hook’s mid thigh. 

Hook’s cock springs up from the nest of dark hair between his thighs. It’s big and thick and only half hard- Peter can feel the strain in his jaw and his ass already. He quickly gets the drawers down and off of Hook’s legs. 

“Well?” Hook asks. Peter looks up at him. 

“Don’t just stare. Suck it.” 

Peter wraps his hand around the base and takes the head of Hook’s into his mouth, getting as much of it as he can take before it’s even fully hard. He still can’t take it all- he can only take it all when hook lays him on the bed with his head hanging off the edge and fucks straight into his open throat. 

Hook’s cock is heavy and thick in his mouth, and there’s a sick, dark part of him that likes it. That sick, dark part of him loves it- the taste, the smell, the feeling of a man’s cock inside his mouth, his ass. It feels like that part of him grows every day. Every time his captain fucks him, it feels like that part is nurtured. 

He twists his hand around the base, pumping what his mouth can’t reach, keeping his lips over his teeth and his mouth moving up and down the shaft until he’s leaking drool and Hook’s bitter pre-come from the stretched corners of his mouth. His jaw aches and he can feel tears of exertion starting to prickle at the corners of his eyes when Hook uses his hand to tilt Peter’s head back by his hair, tugging those golden strands until Peter is staring back into Hook’s ice blue eyes. Hook thrusts into his mouth harshly, just two times, and then pulls out. Peter coughs, trying to catch his breath. 

“On the bed,” Hook says once Peter’s breathing has settled. Peter scrambles to comply, lying face down on the end of the bed. 

“Good, Peter,” Hook praises him. Peter realizes with a jolt that his cock is hard, standing up proudly from the hairless juncture of his thighs, his balls drawn up tight already. He burns with shame, but doesn’t resist when Hook spreads his thighs. He does startle when the cool metal of the back of his captain’s hook strokes from just below his balls up to the top of his hole. He moans out a feeble protest, but Hook shushes him, takes his hook back, and the next touch against his hole has Peter gripping the blanket and spreading his legs wide, pushing back against the feeling of the captain’s warm, wicked tongue. 

The feeling of the tongue working inside him is overwhelming, just like it was the first time Hook did it, and every time since. There’s no feeling like it, nothing that sets his body alight and has him asking for things he didn’t know he wanted until Hook saved him- until Hook _captured_ him. Hook _captured_ him, and made him into this squirming, gasping thing that forgets everything as soon as Hook is naked and on top of him. 

“Please,” Peter whispers, and he burns more. 

“Please?” Hook asks. “Please what?” Peter doesn’t respond, just stretches his arm out to the little jar of thick, fragrant oil from the Island of Men Like Them that Hook always talks about. He swears they’ll live there when pirating isn’t profitable anymore. Peter thinks they’ll have to go there soon- between Hook’s attentions and the crew’s constant uses of Nibs and Slightly, they’re running low on the oil. Peter is pretty sure the jars in the captain’s quarters are some of the last. 

He passes the jar back to Hook and the tongue is joined by a finger, slicking inside of him and pressing against all the hidden spots in him that make him kick his feet and demand more. Hook’s fingers and tongue open him up, pushing in and spreading him apart and making his vision blur with the pleasure until he’s begging. 

“Please, Hook, fuck me, just fuck me,” he chants out between nonsense syllables. Finally, finally, Hook pulls away and Peter can hear the slick sound of him oiling his cock up. Peter arches his back and spreads his legs wide in anticipation, and his eyes roll back in his head when Hook finally pushes inside him. 

“Does that feel good, Pan?” Hook asks. Peter nods and whimpers and moves his hips to get Hook deeper, faster, now. 

“Why does it feel good?” Hook asks, grinding deep and slow and pushing his big cock straight into that treacherous place in Peter’s body that makes him forget himself. 

“Because,” Peter chokes out, “This is what I was made for.” That gets him another slow roll of Hook’s hips before Hook lies completely on top of him. Hook pulls Peter’s head back by his hair, and then the pirate’s mouth is on his. Peter opens his mouth and kisses back with everything he has, every bit of his body surrendering to Hook again. 

They keep kissing like that until Hook’s cock is shoving inside him and shoving Peter up the bed, until his own cock is spilling onto the bed. Hook isn’t done yet, but Peter’s hole is sensitive and feels all used up, like it can’t take any more. Peter whines in discomfort. Hook thrusts fast and hard until he comes, and finally it’s over. 

Peter sighs into the pillow as Hook rearranges them. The captain unstraps his hook, tosses a blanket over them both, and settles in behind Peter. Peter drifts, feeling loose and languid and satisfied. Hook presses a finger into Peter’s dripping hole and Peter moans, but he’s too exhausted to protest.

He falls asleep like that, held in Captain Hook’s arms. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’ll find his way back to Neverland.

**Author's Note:**

> For L, again. Shoutout to the sock drawer.


End file.
